


He Thinks

by Wolfs_Cry



Category: Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV - Fandom, Final Fantasy XV, Kingsglaive: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-14 07:38:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15383880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfs_Cry/pseuds/Wolfs_Cry
Summary: From this close, she looks haggard. Older.He’s almost eight, so she could be. . .ten? Eleven? He doesn’t know. But he thinks she’s most probably a few years older than him.Her breathing’s deep and even.He wonders when she’ll wake up.





	1. Chapter 1

From this close, she looks haggard. Older.

  
He’s almost eight, so she could be. . .ten? Eleven? He doesn’t know. But he thinks she’s most probably a few years older than him.

  
He hugs his legs and rests his chin on his knees.

  
Her breathing’s deep and even.

  
He wonders when she’ll wake up.

  
He thinks he should dislike someone who’s been stealing the food he places outside for the dog that comes by every evening.

  
He doesn’t.

* * *

  
“Warm milk. Warm milk would be good.”

  
Gladio follows Jared around the kitchen as he prepares something for the girl when she wakes up. They’d found her a little into the woods behind his house. Out cold and turning blue.

  
It’s the middle of winter.

  
He’d told Jared about her after not seeing her for three days from his perch by the East window.

  
He doesn’t want her to die.

  
Even if the only thing he knows about her’s that she really needs food—based on what he’s seen for the past few weeks.

  
He glances behind him. She’s still there. Huddling by the fireplace in the thick blanket Jared had wrapped around her. He looks again. The fire casts shadows across her face. Makes them dance across her features. Then, he remembers. It’s rude to stare. So he quickly turns back to Jared, and he stops staring.

  
He’d once tried placing a whole loaf of fresh bread outside for her. It’d disappeared that day, but not on the days that followed. He doesn’t know why. He’d thought she’s hungry. And he likes that bread too. So he’d thought that maybe, _maybe_ , she didn’t like it.

  
After that, he’d tried changing the types of loaves he places outside. Even so, only chunks of them would be taken. He supposes he’ll never know why she doesn’t take the whole loaf anymore after that _one_ time. Although, he’d thought beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  
Not that he’s calling her a beggar or anything.

  
The back door swings opens then and a gust of cold air sweeps in.

  
“Ah, Jared. Gladiolus. Nice to see you. It’s just _freezing_ outside.”

  
It’s the gardener. He still comes by to tend to the plants indoors and to chat with Jared. Both of them return the greeting. Gladio watches as the gardener stomps his snowy shoes on the mat, then shrugs out of his coat.

  
He stops when he’s about to hang up his coat. “Hey, Jared”—he fingers the coat already on the coatrack—“where did you find this?”

  
Suddenly, there’s a sound, and a blur dashes out the opened back door into the cold.

  
The girl.

  
Gladio runs out after her.

  
He can’t let her get away.

  
She’s fast and he has to throw himself onto her to stop her from escaping into the woods. They tumble into the snow.

  
The girl’s already scrambling up and moving to bolt again. He tackles her down this time and doesn’t let go. He wants to bring her back indoors where there’s shelter and a fire and—

  
He stops.

  
She’s. . .she’s hyperventilating.

  
No. Wait. She’s not hyperventilating, she’s—

  
“I’m sorry,” she sobs. “I’m sorry for stealing that coat. And boots.”

  
She’s. . .she’s shaking.

  
And Gladio realises then he’s still on her, on the snow, and she’s barefooted, and in rags.

  
“Gladiolus!”

  
He looks up.

  
Jared’s nearing them. He quickly gets up, pulling her with him. He pauses, but realises he doesn’t have a coat to give her. He’s not wearing one. He’s careful not to let go of her now.

  
Then, he does, and he goes in front of her, bending his knees a little. “Get on.”

  
She’s looking at him, brows furrowed, arms wrapped around herself. He can see the tearstains on her grimy face.

  
He says again, “Get on.”

  
She’s to get onto his back because she’s not wearing shoes and the snow’s all up till her knees.

  
Then, Jared’s by their side, and he’s fussing over them being out in the cold, and he turns to the girl. “Here, child.” He places a coat on her. “Now let’s get you back inside before you freeze your feet off.” He picks her up and starts walking back to the house. “Come on, Gladiolus.”

  
And, he follows.

  
He thinks he should get angry she’s caused him to run out into the snow without his boots and without his coat in the middle of winter.

  
He doesn’t.

* * *

  
She’s smaller than him.

  
She’s smaller than him, though she looks older than him. “Most probably because of malnutrition,” Jared had said. He supposes Jared’s right.

  
After Jared had made sure the girl had eaten, he’d seen to it that a maid helped the girl wash up and bathe. Now, she’s sitting in the kitchen with him, in his old clothes that didn’t quite fit anymore, and. . .

  
She looks different.

  
But when Jared appears with the gardener again—whose coat and boots she’d stolen from the garden shed, they now know—she starts to stiffen and shrink. Then she’s crying, and Gladio’s hugging her, and she tenses up even more.

  
“My dad hugs me whenever I cry,” he says. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  
He thinks about regretting this when her eyes narrow at him and she doesn’t move to hug him back like he always does to Dad.

  
He doesn’t.


	2. Chapter 2

Her name’s Crowe.

  
Her name’s Crowe, and her eyes always seem to burn into him. He knows that now.

  
“Want to join me for training, Crowe?” he says.

  
She looks at him for a while. “What. . .what do you do?”

  
“Martial arts, weapons training.” He adds, “It’s fun.”

  
So she does.

  
Cor watches her as she trails after him into the training room behind the house.

  
“Meet my friend, Cor,” Gladio says. “Her name’s Crowe.” He turns to her. “Crowe, this is Cor. My trainer.”

  
Cor gets down onto one knee. “Hello.” He puts out a hand. Gladio’s never heard him use _that_ voice before.

  
Crowe’s looking up at Cor through the hair falling over her face, hands behind her back.

  
“My name’s Cor.” He extends his hand out further. “What’s yours?” He’s still using _that_ voice.

  
She finally shuffles forward. Takes his hand slowly. “My name’s. . .Crowe.”

  
Cor shakes her hand lightly. “Well, nice to meet you, Crowe. Jared’s told me all about you.”

  
She stiffens.

  
“Oh, good things,” Cor says. “I’ve only heard good things about you.”

  
She tilts her head a little. Then, she smiles.

  
Cor smiles back. And, there’s only one way to describe it. It’s soft. He gets up then. “Alright. Let’s get started.”

  
“Can you train her too, Cor?” Gladio asks.

  
Cor looks at him for a while. “I don’t see why not. It’ll just be like training Aranea.”

  
Aranea’s his daughter. Gladio trains with her once in a while when he goes over to Cor’s and Monica’s.

  
“Okay,” Gladio says. “Great.”

  
He thinks of telling Cor thank you for accepting his new friend.

  
He doesn’t.

* * *

  
“This can be our spot.”

  
They’re in the flower field just before the woods behind his house.

  
“Are you sure?” she says.

  
He nods. “Yeah. Dad says Mum planted all these gladioluses for me so that it’ll be my spot.” He turns to her. “Now it can be ours.”

  
“I don’t want to. . .intrude.”

  
“It’s fine. It’s nice actually having someone out here with me in this big space.”

  
She seems to think for a while. “Okay.” Then, she lies down beside him. “Thank you.”

  
He just smiles. “It’s nothing.”

  
It feels nice to have someone about his age around the house all the time now. Jared had helped ask around and a maid who works in the house took Crowe in. “Can’t have any children herself,” Jared had said solemnly. She’d been coming by every day for the past two months now. She’d join him as he goes about his day: from his classes, to meals, and to trainings.

  
She’s always around.

  
He thinks about telling her that she’s now his best friend.

  
He doesn’t.


	3. Chapter 3

“Gladiolus!”

  
He turns away from Dad, away from the opened door. Ducking and dodging nurses and maids, he rushes out the hallway into the living room.

  
He needs to—he needs to—

  
“Gladio?”

  
He looks up.

  
Crowe.

  
Her hand’s reaching out. Then, she opens her arms.

  
He rushes forward. Rushes straight into her arms.

  
“Mum is—mum is—”

  
She just hugs him tightly.

  
He’d heard the commotion. Felt the tension in the air. So, he’d finally slipped to the room Mum was in. “She’s in labour,” they’d kept saying yesterday. Had gotten Dad home who never left the room for _hours_ now. When Gladio’d seen Mum from the door—whose hand Dad had been holding onto—

  
He just knew.

  
“Mum’s gone,” he whispers.

  
Crowe just hugs him tighter. Cradles his head close to her.

  
“Gladiolus.”

  
He doesn’t have to look up to see who it is.

  
“Gladiolus,” Jared says again. “Your dad. . .your dad sent me. To check on you. He’d have come out himself if he could.”

  
Gladio doesn’t respond.

  
He doesn’t move till Jared’s gone. Doesn’t move till Crowe pulls him into a corner beneath the stairs.

  
Later, he learns that not only Mum didn’t make it.

  
The baby didn’t either.

  
Crowe just keeps holding him. Says nothing as he squeezes her hard. He feels her breath in his hair. Feels her face resting on his head. And he cries.

  
He cries.

  
Cries.

  
And cries.

  
He thinks he’d become embarrassed after falling apart in her arms, clinging to her and choking and gasping that he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to breathe again.

  
He doesn’t.

* * *

  
“What’d you wish for?”

  
He opens his eyes. Sees the smoking candles, before turning to her. “I wished to never lose family again.”

  
“Oh,” she says.

  
“What’d you have wished for?” he says.

  
“To not get left behind.”

  
And they share a long look.

  
“Alright, children,” Jared says then. “Now, this is a happy occasion. Let’s not have talk like this at the table.”

  
Jared cuts his cake for him and gives them both a slice. Gladio makes him sit down with them to have one too.

  
“Gladiolus,” Jared says. “Your dad will be home for dinner with you later.”

  
Crowe smiles at him, giving his hand a squeeze. “I hope you enjoy your family dinner.”

  
He thinks of telling her that she’s part of his family now.

  
He doesn’t.


	4. Chapter 4

“Everyone’s so pretty.”

  
He turns to her.

  
She’s got her chin propped on her hands as she watches all the guests mingle in the living room. They’re both sitting in the kitchen; him, in his dress uniform, and her, in normal clothes.

  
There’s a party in his house tonight for nobility and. . .well, she wasn’t invited. He’d promised to keep her company though, so, here they are.

  
He looks at her closely.

  
Her hair’s grown out from when it was first chopped off because it was just so bad. It’s even so silky now, he can see the light in her hair, and it’s soft to the touch. He knows, because, he’s touched it before. He reaches out to brush it with his hand just to be sure.

  
Yeah. It’s really soft.

  
And he looks at her face and sees how much younger she looks now. Not all sharp bones with dark circles under her eyes and chapped lips.

  
He thinks about telling her then that she’s really pretty—no, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen before, really, and no one’s as pretty as her.

  
He doesn’t.

* * *

  
“What’re you afraid of?”

  
She pushes off him from where they’re leaning against each other and narrows her eyes at him. “You’re not going to tell me a ghost story, are you?”

  
They’re sitting in the field of gladioluses and counting the stars they can actually see above them. They’d both agreed the night sky isn’t as magnificent as that time they’d gone camping with his dad in the Northern woods.

  
He shakes his head. “I’ve just been. . .thinking.”

  
She peers at him. “Oh, yeah?” Then, she grins. “You mean, _finally?_ ”

  
He gives her a look. “I wouldn’t insult me now.”

  
She raises a brow.

  
“I mean”—he makes a show of standing up—“if we ran back to the house right now, I’m pretty sure I’ll be faster than you.” He’s been growing much taller lately and he’s finally taller than her. “I got longer legs than you.”

  
She immediately jumps to her feet and wraps herself around his arm. “Don’t you _dare_ leave me behind.” She’s frowning now. “You were the one who suggested this outing.”

  
“Okay, okay.” He uses a finger to smooth out her frown. “I won’t.”

  
Her lips thin.

  
He leans down so he’s just a breath away from her face. He puts a hand on his chest. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

  
She grimaces. “I don’t like that.”

  
“Fine.” He offers her his pinkie. “Promise.”

  
She gives him a look before entwining their pinkies. They touch their thumbs for good measure.

  
“Okay. Now.” He pulls his arm free and pulls her down with him. They settle into their previous positions again. “So, what’re you afraid of?”

  
She looks up at him, leaning her head on his shoulder. “What are _you_ afraid of?”

  
Whenever she looks at him like _that_ , it makes him feel all warm inside.

  
He purses his lips. “Death,” he says. “It just takes, takes and takes from you.”

  
“Yeah?” she says. “I’d rather die first. I’m scared of. . .staying alive. Being the last one left behind.”

  
“You won’t get left behind.” He lightly drops his head onto hers.

  
“Like _you’d_ know.” She draws her legs in. Leans more into him.

  
He thinks of telling her she’s got him.

  
He doesn’t.


	5. Chapter 5

“So. . .yeah.”

  
He blinks at her. Blinks again.

  
This can’t be happening.

  
“Crowe.” He can’t help frowning. “Seriously?”

  
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  
“Because. . .it’s ridiculous.”

  
“Why. Think I won’t make the cut?”

  
“No. It’s war, Crowe. It’s. . .it’s war.”

  
“You think I don’t know that?”

  
“Yeah! If not why would you even be considering trying out?”

  
“What would _you_ know? You’re younger than me.”

  
“ _So what?_ This is—it’s war!”

  
“Look. Unlike what _you’re_ making it sound like, I _actually_ thought hard about it.”

  
“Then, _don’t_. Don’t join the Glaive, Crowe.”

  
She blinks rapidly. “But maybe I could have something to fight for. Maybe—maybe I’d be. . .needed there.”

  
“You’re needed here.”

  
“What. To just keep using up people’s resources?”

  
“Crowe.”

  
“No—don’t. . .don’t think I don’t realise. They. . .they don’t want me.”

  
“ _Crowe_. Don’t say that.”

  
“But it’s _true_. I’ve heard them talking ’bout me.”

  
“Don’t. . .I don’t want to lose. . .Dad says war’s not—it’s not just fighting. It’s much more than that.”

  
“And your dad would know.”

  
“ _Don’t_ pick on my dad, Crowe.”

  
She just shakes her head. “You don’t think I’d make it. Watch me.”

  
And then, she’s gone.

  
He thinks about chasing after her and telling her that’s not true—that he’s sorry—that he feels his world’s just got thrown off its axis again and he just _doesn’t know_ what to do—but he’s angry—but—but—but he also wants to tell her he. . .he’s just scared of losing someone close to him again.

  
He doesn’t.

* * *

  
“It’s been a while since she’s come around, Gladiolus,” Jared says.

  
And, he knows. Of course he knows.

  
At first, he’d thought that maybe, she’s just angry with him. That maybe, she’d come around after a while. He’d hoped that _maybe_ , she’d start coming to his place again.

  
She doesn’t.

  
He’d finally asked the maid about her last week. Had finally managed to come up with a question that didn’t sound like he’s angry with the maid—because really, he isn’t, he isn’t _at all_ —and asked if Crowe was still around.

  
The maid had just looked at him apologetically. Had just apologised. And really, who was he kidding. He’d known the answer even before he’d asked.

  
She isn’t around anymore.

  
So he doesn’t answer Jared. Just stares at the table and draws circles on its surface.

  
He thinks of asking Jared why didn’t he take Crowe in when he’s so fond her—why didn’t he take her in so she didn’t have to get taken in by the maid—why didn’t he _just_ take care of her so she wouldn’t have felt so unwanted—so she didn’t have to go away and join the Glaive.

  
He doesn’t.


	6. Chapter 6

“Does Crowe not want to train anymore?” Cor says.

  
Really.

  
Gladio _really_ doesn’t want to talk about her, or to think about her. He doesn’t want to care about her because—because—

  
He bites his lip. “She’s gone away.”

  
“Oh?” Cor doesn’t quite manage to hide his surprise. “Well, Jared didn’t say anything ’bout that.”

  
Of course he didn’t. “I didn’t—I didn’t tell him.”

  
“Tell him?”

  
He doesn’t look up. “Yeah.”

  
“Tell him what, Gladio?”

  
He continues dragging his sword lightly across the floor.

  
Cor reaches out and stops his hand. “Tell him what, Gladio?”

  
His throat burns and tightens, and his chest squeezes. He blinks rapidly. “That she’s gone and. . .join the Glaive.”

  
Cor’s hand drop from his. “Oh. So. . .she got in?”

  
He coughs to cover up a sniff. He swallows hard. “I guess. . .it’s been. . .more than a month now.”

  
“Oh,” Cor says again. “I see.”

  
He thinks of asking Cor why does his voice drop, why does he sound hollow—of asking what does it matter to him _anyway_ that she’s gone now.

  
He doesn’t.

* * *

  
“Cor told me Crowe’s joined the Glaive.”

  
Gladio sighs. “Yeah.”

  
Dad just nods. Continues eating. Then, he looks up at him. “What do you think about that, Gladiolus?”

  
“Well. . .it’s her choice.”

  
Dad just nods again. “Then, how do you feel about it?”

  
“Like I said, it’s her choice.” He realises then he’s been pushing his food around his plate for a while now. He stops. His etiquette coach would’ve been so disappointed in him if he’d seen it. He looks up at Dad again. “Is she. . .too young? To join the Glaive?”

  
“Ah. . .no, actually.” Dad puts down his cutleries carefully. “There’s no discrimination in the selection process, Gladiolus. As long as you can wield His Majesty’s magic.”

  
His heart weighs down. “Oh.” He realises. . .he’s been hoping for Dad to say yes. To say, _yes, she’s too young to join the Glaive_ and _yes, she’d immediately be brought home_ and. . .

  
_Yes, you’d be able to see her again._

  
A pang shoots through his chest. Shoots all the way down to his fingers and he clenches his hands.

  
He thinks of asking Dad what does he _really_ think of her joining the Glaive—thinks of kicking, crying and screaming.

  
He doesn’t.


	7. Chapter 7

She’s one of the most prominent Glaive now.

  
In fact, she’s the most powerful mage among them.

  
“The Black Mage,” they’d called her.

  
It’s his first time training with the Glaive and he gets introduced to some of the best. It’s been years since he’s seen her, and. . .

  
She’s a young lady now.

  
He ends up training with Pelna, who’s a recruit, and Nyx, a senior—well, under Nyx’s guidance, really—because they’re both good with their blades. And, it makes sense, because Gladio’s only got blades and no magic.

  
But he can’t stop his mind from wandering to the other end of the hall. Can’t stop his eyes from wandering to her.

  
“She’s sure something, huh.”

  
Gladio looks at Nyx. “What?”

  
“Crowe,” Nyx says. “The way she wields magic.”

  
Pelna brings down his weapon. “She’s really an asset out on the field.”

  
So Gladio tells himself to stop being selfish. To stop wanting her to come back—even if anyone _can_ leave the Glaive at any time they wanted to. He tells himself that she’s helping protect lives. Tells himself that she’s helping _save_ lives.

  
And they all watch, as she controls magic. Watch, as she controls it like it’s her own body.

  
And then, she burns.

  
She burns, she’s alight, and she’s engulfed in flames.

  
She amazes him, terrifies him.

  
She takes his breath away.

  
He’s afraid she shouldn’t be burning so bright. So bright, it hurts to look at her. So bright, he thinks his eyes are scorched. But he can’t look away.

  
He can’t look away.

  
When training’s over, he shakes hands with the few Glaive again. He shakes hands with her.

  
When he’s leaving the hall, he looks back and. . .

  
She’s smiling at him.

  
Crowe’s _smiling_.

  
At _him_.

  
Well, at least, he _thinks_ she’s smiling at him. He’s not quite sure. It just looks like a quirk of the lips. And, really, what does he know.

  
He probably doesn’t even know her anymore.

  
He thinks of going over, of talking to her again, of facing the inevitable awkwardness that’d be there between them just so they can go back to the time when they were never so close yet so far, so close yet worlds apart.

  
He doesn’t.


	8. Chapter 8

“I think she thinks I’m funny.”

  
“Presumptuous.”

  
“Aww, _Iggy_ ,” Prom says. “Tell him, Noct. Tell him she actually laughs at my jokes.”

  
“Who knows, Specs,” Noct says. “Maybe Cindy just thinks he’s a joke.”

  
“ _Hey_.” Prom actually pouts.

  
Noct and Iggy share a chuckle.

  
Gladio quirks his lips.

  
Cindy’s the kids’ classmate. Prom doesn’t even bother keeping his crush on her a secret. He always has crushes. But Gladio’s noticed: this one, _this_ one, has lasted the longest.

  
“Why, someone’s awfully quiet right now.”

  
Gladio looks over.

  
Iggy’s looking at him. “Thinking about a _certain_ someone?”

  
The others turn to him too.

  
“You’re one to talk,” Gladio says. “Don’t think Noct hasn’t told me ’bout how you stutter in front of Aranea when she comes pick Prom up.”

  
Iggy clears his throat. “I _do not_ stutter.”

  
“Fine,” Gladio simply says. “Get tongue-tied then.”

  
“I do not—”

  
“ _Well_ , it’s true though,” Prom says. “Even Big Sis noticed.” Aranea’s his older sister.

  
Noct turns to him sharply. “Wait. You _what_?”

  
“Um. . . I told her?”

  
“That was meant to be a secret!” Noct darts a look at Iggy. “I’m—um—I didn’t expect him to—um—sorry.”

  
“Sorry, Iggy. . .” Prom fiddles with his fingers. “But at least she likes you too!”

  
“Really?” Noct perks up.

  
“Yeah! I’m _hundred_ percent positive. She thinks you’re cute!”

  
Iggy let’s out a pained sigh. “Just. . .kill me now.” He closes his eyes.

  
Gladio huffs a laugh. “If you ask nicely, I’ll let you tag along to my trainings with Aranea.”

  
Iggy cracks open his eyes to give him a look. “No, thank you.” His lips are pursed. “And besides, it’s training.”

  
“Yeah. I said training. What’d you think I meant by that? You don’t get to do anything fishy.”

  
Iggy sighs loudly this time.

  
“But hey. Look on the bright side, Iggy.” Gladio pats him once. “You can just be like Prince Charmless here. Exchange love letters with your betrothed because you know the feeling’s mutual.”

  
Noct and Princess Lunafreya were always meant to wed since they were born. Their parents introduced them to each other early on so they’d at least be friends. They ended up liking each other. Which’s great.

  
Noct stiffens. “Hey. Why am I suddenly dragged into this?”

  
Gladio grins. “You’re the cause of Iggy’s misery in the first place.”

  
Then, Prom says, “ _Y’know_ , we all still don’t know who _you_ like.”

  
“Yeah.” Noct turns to him. “C’mon. I’m sure there’s someone.”

  
Gladio glances at Iggy. Iggy’s watching him closely.

  
He thinks of her.

  
Thinks of her who burns.

  
Of her eyes that burn into him, whose image burns into his mind, whose existence burns into soul.

  
He thinks of telling them about Crowe.

  
He doesn’t.


	9. Chapter 9

She doesn’t turn up to training for a few days.

  
“She’s mourning,” Nyx says, when he asks. “We. . .we lost Pel.”

  
Pel.

  
They’d lost Pel.

  
Pelna. One of the kindest person he’s ever known. And. . .he doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know what to feel.

  
He’s come to always be around Nyx, Pel, Lib and Crowe during training these few years now—but he still doesn’t actually talk to her. But she hasn’t changed much. Hasn’t changed at all.

  
And Nyx tells him she blames herself. Blames herself for not being fast enough, for not being strong enough, for not being good enough.

  
Nyx and Lib are like her older brothers; Pel, her closest friend.

  
He stumbles upon her on his way home. Finds her in the gladiolus field. Their spot. She’s alone. In their spot. He goes closer, but can’t quite bring himself to go over _to_ her.

  
She’s not crying.

  
Just sitting there, quietly. Running a hand over the gladioluses before her.

  
She looks forlorn.

  
He thinks of going over and holding her like they were children again.

  
He doesn’t.


	10. Chapter 10

_Dear Gladio,_

  
_I wish we were children again. Where I’m not a Glaive and you’re not a Crownsguard. When I still believed you wanted me around. But maybe we could meet differently. I’ve sure made the worst first impression ever. I wish we were still friends and I could still talk to you like old times. Looks like I’ll just have to talk to you here. It’s my fault for running out on you like that anyway._

  
_I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being mean and for accusing you of things that were never true. You’ve only been the best. I’m sorry for being the worst friend. I hope you’ve found better friends than me._

  
_So, you were right. I shouldn’t have joined the Glaive. But I can’t leave now. I can’t leave Nyx and Lib behind. ~~I’ve already caused Pel to~~_

  
_Anyway, remember when you told me you were scared of death and I said I wasn’t? I take it back now. I’m scared of death. I’m scared of dying. I really want to live. There are still so many things I haven’t tried, so many things I want to do. I haven’t even said sorry to you. Or thank you. ~~Or I lov~~ Lately, I feel like I’m running on borrowed time. I wish I didn’t feel this way. I’m scared. I’m so scared. I think I need a hug—_

  
He stops.

  
The word’s smeared.

  
There are other words smeared.

  
And, the whole letter’s becoming blurry.

  
_Drip._

  
_Drip._

  
_Drip. Drip. Drip._

  
He quickly catches other tears before more hit the paper. He turns away from his desk.

  
Nyx had passed him this stack of letters just now because, well, they were addressed to him so they wanted him to have it—though Lib didn’t know why Crowe would write him letters because they never really talked in person. The letters were among Crowe’s personal effects when they were clearing her house out.

  
She’d been KIA.

  
“It’d been fast. _Too_ fast,” Nyx had said. “We didn’t even have time to get to her—to help her. Well, at least—at least she didn’t suffer.”

  
But Gladio thinks of her being scared of dying. Thinks of her really wanting to live. And he cries.

  
He cries.

  
Cries.

  
And cries.

  
He thinks he should’ve started with the oldest and not the latest letter because now he’s read her last words.

  
He thinks he’ll stop here, at her latest letter, because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to take more.

  
He doesn’t.

* * *

  
Gladio dreams of her that night.

  
Dreams of her as she burns so bright he can’t quite get near to her.

  
He wakes up thinking of her. Wakes up crying. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to feel warm again.

  
He thinks she’s the only one to ever break his heart twice.

  
He thinks he’ll never be able to move on from her.

  
 

  
 

  
He doesn’t.


End file.
